


Elevator Music

by NerdyAdjacent



Category: Professional Wrestling, WWE, World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Forced Proximity, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Shameless Smut, stuck in an elevator
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-06
Updated: 2016-07-06
Packaged: 2018-07-21 23:25:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7409329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NerdyAdjacent/pseuds/NerdyAdjacent
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Trapped in an elevator is no place to have sex with your enemy. </p><p>Or is it?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Elevator Music

**Author's Note:**

> I needed to write something that wasn't sick, twisted, and messed up. So here you go :)

God he hated elevator music. It was like the soft, dulcet tones of nails on a chalkboard. He didn't know why they played this shit over and over. Who wanted to listen to Kenny G play The Girl From Ipanema on a loop? No one, that's who. The fact that he was already in a bad mood when he stepped in had nothing to do with it. And he knew who EXACTLY was to blame for that.

Dean. Fucking. Ambrose. 

Wasn't that just a kick in the ass? It was also not remotely surprising either. Dean had the remarkable ability to get under his skin like only Dean could. What bothered him the most is that he'd always let Dean get under his skin, because Dean was the only one to make him feel alive. And he hated it. He hated the fact that he couldn't decide whether he wanted to kick him or kiss him; he hated the fact that Dean knew every one of his buttons and pressed them every chance he could; he hated the fact that Dean was now champion; and he hated the fact that he wasn't more upset about losing that championship to him. 

God dammit, could they at least turn the music down?

He still had four floors to go to get to the parking garage and he didn't know if he could stand to listen to this for even that short amount of time. The elevator came to a halt and the doors slid open. Seth's heart sank then fluttered against his will, standing there with his eyes glued to his phone was the last person he would want to see and he rolled his eyes in disgust. 

Dean. Fucking. Ambrose.

He looked up and smirked in that way that always annoyed Seth. It was that knowing sort of grin he used when he knew Seth was fed up. “Hey Seth!”

“Dean.” He answered curtly, hoping the brush off would stop any further conversations that they might have. He wasn't that lucky.

“Good match out there, Architect.” Dean said much to Seth's chagrin. “I mean, wasn't as good as mine, but hey, we can't all be champs, right?” 

“You know damn right well that -”

The elevator shuddered and stalled and both men grabbed for the nearest thing to steady themselves. For Seth, that just happened to be Dean. Realizing what he had done, and getting a glimpse of the cocky smirk on Dean's face, he jumped away quickly. 

The elevator had stopped. They were stuck. Together.

“No! You've got to be kidding me!” Seth snapped out, immediately pressing the emergency button. 

“Relax, Seth.” He heard Dean drawl from behind him. “It's just a stopped elevator. It happens all the time.”

Seth was well aware of this. In fact, this wasn't even the first time he'd been stuck in one of these shitty hotel elevators this month. The problem wasn't the fact he was stuck, the problem was _who_ he was stuck with. 

This was Seth's worst nightmare on so many levels. He was now in a confined space, listening to god awful elevator music, with Dean Ambrose. If he wasn't so confused about his feelings toward the Lunatic, it might be a bit more bearable. As it were, he needed to get out before he did something stupid.

 _“We're sorry, boys.”_ A voice crackled from the speaker above their head, giving a brief reprieve from the shitty music. _“Looks like there's been a power surge. The whole building has gone haywire.”_

“What!” Seth shrieked. “How long?”

_“A few hours.”_

“How long is a few hours?” Asked Dean, far calmer than Seth. 

_“Four. Maybe five”_ crackled the voice with a touch of apology. _“Again, sorry. Sit tight, okay?”_

There was a sharp snap when they disconnected the speaker and the music began pumping back in. Seth immediately started thumping his head against the door. “Perfect. Simply perfect.”

“Whelp, looks like we're stuck for a while.” Dean said. Seth turned just in time to see him slide to the floor against the back wall, smirking at the glare Seth could see he was giving him in his own reflection. 

“I'm in hell.” He said to himself because that was the only explanation. “I've gone to hell and it's being stuck in an elevator with _you_ with fucking Kenny G providing the soundtrack to my torment!”

“You need to lighten up.” Dean chuckled and dug into his bag, producing a bottle of water and tossing it to Seth, who caught it easily. “Don't drink that too fast, there's no urinals in here.”

“You're disgusting.” 

“Oh stop being a drama queen and sit down.” Dean countered, waving his hand at the empty space next to him. 

Seth was ardently opposed to being on that side of the elevator and settled for sliding down the steel doors across from him. They say in tense silence for a few minutes, neither sure what exactly to say. Yet, in true Dean fashion, he was the one to break it. “So, read any good books lately?”

Seth groaned in disgust. “Don't talk to me, Ambrose.”

Dean smirked, “I haven't read that one. Any good?”

“Do you take anything I say seriously?”

“Why on earth would I do that?” Dean chuckled. “You're so uptight, it's my life's mission to unwind you.”

“Goodie.” He sighed, not even remotely trying to hide the sarcasm. 

“Look, we're stuck in here for a long time.” Dean said with a sly smirk, moving to plant himself next to Seth who tensed but felt his face flush at the closeness of the other man. There was a tingle running up his skin on the side Dean was pressing against, like the electricity they had always seemed to have. That's what drew Seth to Dean in the first place, that spark. In the Shield, they called it a brotherhood, but now it was something entirely different. It was something that scared Seth and made him want to hate Ambrose so badly. 

“Least we can do is make the best of it.” The other man continued. 

Seth wasn't exactly sure what he meant by that, but the sparkle in those baby blues was confusing. Did Dean want him just as badly? 

The next thing he knew, there was warm pressure on his knee. Looking down, Dean's fingers were splayed over the joint with his thumb absently rubbing along the inside. 

Seth's mouth was suddenly very dry and his tongue felt almost too big for his mouth. “What are you doing?” He asked, voice breaking against his will. 

“Making the best of it.” Dean answered and gently took Seth by the chin to turn his head toward him before leaning in to brush his lips on his. Dean was obviously testing the waters, trying to see how far Seth would let him go. When he met little resistance, probably because Seth was in so much shock and all the blood was now rushing from his head to think clearly about what was happening, he pressed in harder. 

Before he knew it, Seth had his hand tangled in Dean's hair, trying desperately to pull him closer. That tingle had turned into a shockwave of need and he suddenly couldn't get Dean close enough for his liking. 

“Needy, aren't you?” Dean breathed into his mouth. 

“Shut up Ambrose!” Seth said back, voice much heavier than it had been. 

“You ever don't this before?” 

Seth pulled away suddenly and watched Dean's eyes. he hadn't even thought of that. No, Seth had never had sex with a man, but he's definitely experimented on those lonely nights in hotel rooms. But fingers in his ass as he breathed Dean's name would be nothing compared to the real thing. What if he couldn't handle it? Dean would obviously never let him live it down. See, this is why it was so much easier to hate him. 

His hesitation was enough of an answer for Dean. “Ok, we’ll go slow. You tell me what you want.”

“Why are you being so nice about this? Aren't you supposed to hate me?”

“Would you feel better if I hated you?” There was that damnable smirk again and Seth felt his cock twitch in his pants. “You think I don't see the way you look at me? You want it as bad as I do, you're just too scared to act. I've had an eye for you since we met.”

“You have?”

Dean kissed Seth's jaw and nodded against the crook of his neck, drawing a long breath from his lips. “Of course I have. Now, tell me what you want, Architect. Your wish is my command.”

Though he found it hard to think, Seth let Dean suck on his neck for several long minutes. The feeling of his lips as they brushed the sensitive skin, the sharp pain when he bit down with his teeth, and the wet trail his tongue left when he tried to soothe the burn was enough to almost send Seth over. 

“I-I want…” He breathed, hand still tangled in Dean's hair. “I want you to suck me…”

He felt Dean smirk against his skin. In the small space of the elevator, Dean maneuvered himself onto his knees between Seth's legs and began unbuttoning his fly and pulling down the zipper agonizingly slowly while never breaking eye contact. He hooked his fingers through Seth's belt loops and pulled, Seth lifted his ass from the elevator floor to help them slide down easier. He was now completely exposed to Dean, hard as a rock, and wanting nothing more than to feel the warm heat of the Lunatics mouth on him. 

Dean didn't make him wait long. The first warm lick came at the base of his dick and trailed upwards to the head in one long enthusiastic flattening of his tongue and Seth moaned despite himself. When the head of his cock found its way into Dean's sinful mouth, he was whimpering for more as his hand carded through auburn hair. 

Dean set a slow pace, dropping down on Seth's length and coming up slowly. It was torture and he never wanted it to stop. But he didn't want to come in Dean's mouth. He wanted to feel him. Tugging on his hair, he pulled Dean off of him and brought him up for a bruising kiss. “I want you inside of me.”

Another one of those smirks. “Alright sweet cheeks. On your back or hands and knees?”

“Hands and knees.” He couldn't believe he said it, but God how he wanted to feel used by Ambrose. Maybe it was some sort of penance for how he'd treated him since the end of the Shield. But wasn't a penance supposed to be hard? Something he wasn't supposed to want with every fiber of his being? 

He turned over so easily for Dean, who gave him a light tap on the thigh as his only direction. He was Seth freaking Rollins and here he was, mewling like a starved kitten for Dean to fill him up. “Hang tight, darlin’.” Dean said and kissed Seth's tailbone quickly. 

Suddenly, the heat of him was gone and Seth found himself whimpering at the loss of contact. It wasn't like he could lose sight of Dean in the close proximity of the elevator, but the fact that he wasn't being touched was torture. Dean was rummaging in his bag before producing a tube and a condom. Of course he would have those things, he was Dean Ambrose, the sexual boy scout. Always prepared. 

He made quick work of unbuckling his belt and pulling his pants down to mid thigh before returning to his position behind Seth. “You ready?”

For a long moment, the only sounds in the elevator compartment was his own breathing, the pounding of his heart in his ears, and that fucking music. But he found himself nodding, so ready. The sound of the bottle being opened and closed filled the space but was immediately drowned out by his own keening when one of Dean's slick fingers found his hole. He was just applying pressure right now, but it felt so good Seth found himself pressing back for more. 

He knew there would be a smirk on Dean's face, so he didn't even bother looking back when that one digit pressed in slowly, forcing a gasp. It burned, but it wasn't overwhelming. It was a pleasant stretch that spread up his spine with every movement. It's wasn't until Dean crooked his finger just so and hit that spot inside Seth that turned the pleasant feeling into a string of curse words that fell without pretense from his lips in an chorus of _JESUSCHRISTFUCKYESYESSHITMORE_!

Dean was laughing now, but his ministrations had picked up. It felt so good Seth hadn't even noticed he had added a second finger until Dean said so. By the time a third finger was added, Seth was so far gone in the feeling, wiggling so much around Dean's hand, the older man hand to brace his hips with his free arm.

As quickly as they were there, the fingers were pulled away, leaving Seth empty and clenching around nothing. It didn't last long though. There was a tearing sound as Dean opened the condom followed by the _schlick schlick_ sound of Dean lubing up his own cock before Seth felt the head press against him. 

“How you doing, champ?” Dean asked, obviously amused. “Ready for something bigger?”

“Get the fuck in me, Ambrose!” Seth whined. 

“Aye aye!” Was the response that Seth should have found annoying, but the intense pressure of the head of Dean's cock pressing in was enough to silence any smart remarks he might have had. As a matter of fact, with how slowly Dean was pushing forward into him, Seth wasn't even sure he'd be able to form coherent sentences at this point. That pleasant stretch was still there, but the feeling of fullness was so intense he thought he might be shoved over the edge far too soon. 

Once he was seated nicely inside, Dean paused and allowed Seth to adjust to him, kissing light trails down his back. It was nice, and surprisingly out of character for the Lunatic Fringe, but Seth found himself thinking he could get used to that side of Dean. But that side of Dean wasn't what he was looking for right now. He needed to cum so badly that if Dean didn't start moving soon, he might just explode. 

Pushing back into him, Seth tried to convey without words that he needed more friction. Dean got the hint, pulling out slowly as Seth let out a sickeningly high pitched whine and pushing back in. He did this several times before his pace began to quicken. 

Seth was in heaven, completely enraptured in the full feeling that Ambrose was giving him. That pleasant stretch changed to pure pleasure as it ripped up his spine, causing his back to arch and Dean's dick to hit that spot inside of him with every thrust. Fuck, he wouldn't be able to last much longer, but he never wanted this to end. Means and whimpers from both men filled the small compartment, echoing off the walls like a chorus of need. 

Dean wrapped an arm around Seth's waist and pulled him up against his chest, his thrusts never wavering. “You feel so good, Architect.” He breathed into his ear before licking at the shell and drawing a filthy moan from Seth's lips. “You want to cum for me?”

Seth was nodding despite himself. God he needed this! He needed to cum so badly! “Yes, _please_!”

“Then do it!” Dean demanded, biting down on the skin where Seth's neck met his collarbone. He knew there would be a mark, one he'd look at later and regret this decision -or not. A mark of ownership from the Lunatic Fringe. How many can say they have one of those? It didn't matter though, because he was already crying out and painting the floor with his load before collapsing against Dean. 

A few more thrusts and Dean stiffened, gripping into Seth so tightly it might have even hurt if he wasn't so blissed out, and released inside of him. The pair collapsed to the floor in a heap, the only sounds their labored breathing and that fucking elevator music. 

That is, until there was the crackling of the speaker as it sprang to life. _“Is, uh, is everything alright in there?”_

Seth looked at Dean who was laughing hysterically. It took a few seconds, but Seth found himself joining in. 

Dean. Fucking. Ambrose.


End file.
